


these dead roses bloom once more

by ScribeOfRED



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRED/pseuds/ScribeOfRED
Summary: Altean kisses are not quite the same as Galra kisses—not that Allura minds the difference.





	these dead roses bloom once more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winterbugsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterbugsy/gifts).



> WinterBugsy wanted kisses and of course gets them because she continues to be a ray of absolute sunshine <3

Allura has kissed—and been kissed—before. It’s just... the last time was ten thousand deca-phoebs past, even though it feels like only a few phoebs ago. But she woke up into the beginning of what’s turned into a full-fledged war, and she’s not even had the time to mourn the loss of her own people, much less to seek out anyone regarding matters of the heart. Not that she’s wanted to—defeating Zarkon and his regime has consumed all of her thoughts since she first emerged from stasis.

But now...

Now there’s Lotor.

He’s crept his way into her thoughts, so slowly that she doesn’t even know how he did it without her noticing, but he’s turned himself into a proper distraction—always at the most improper times, too. And now he’s right here, standing in front of her, tall enough that she has to tilt her head back in order to see his expression, his angled features, his crystalline eyes, the upward cant to his lips.

His _lips_ , they look so soft, so full, so warm, warm like his hands are where they’ve wrapped around hers. It’s the Galra blood, she knows; she has memories of cuddling into Zarkon’s chest for warmth as a child, memories she’s tried so very hard to stamp out, memories she fears are going to rise up and swallow her again now that she’s been reminded of them.

But it’s as if Lotor knows what she’s thinking—as he so often seems to. His smile softens and he encourages her up onto her toes so she can reach his lips, and they’re just as soft and as warm as she imagined, perhaps more. It’s a bit startling, in fact, forcing a quiet gasp out of her, but before she can rethink anything, everything, his hand finds the middle of her back and she allows him to steady her with his touch, the reminder that this is what they _both_ want.

Stars above, she hasn’t been kissed like this in forever, and she didn’t realize how much she craved it until now. He’s gentle with her, more so than she would have expected from a warrior of his renown. There’s something almost reverent about the way he’s exploring the shape of her mouth, as though he’s memorizing every curve, as though he needs this as much as she does. Her legs weaken at the thought, and she wraps her hands around his hips for need of something to hold on to.

“Allura,” he murmurs. Each syllable of her name is spoken between light kisses, a whisper, a plea, a promise, like fire against her skin, and she pushes herself higher on her toes, suddenly, desperately in need of more. More of his touch, more of him, more of being desired, _more_.

His hand finds the back of her neck as they deepen the kiss, angling her ever so slightly until they _fit_ , forming a shape they were always meant to create. She’s never felt a kiss so perfect—it has her melting into his chest, the need to be even closer taking over, and she can feel the way he’s smiling, can feel it morph into a smirk when she sighs her contentment over his skin.

But she’s competitive too, never willing to back down from any sort of challenge, and the sudden need to ensure he’s feeling everything she is rises up, so swift that she doesn’t realize she’s tasting his mouth until her tongue catches against one of his fangs, sharp enough that she instantly stills, concerned she’s been sliced open, and how embarrassing _that_ would be.

Except his hand tightens in her hair and the _sound_ he makes— _oh_. It’s a low little rumble, something she can feel beneath her hands and where her chest is pressed into his. A purr, a growl, pleasure and desire all wrapped up into a single sound that sinks deep into her body, sparks bright against the very core of her.

So she repeats the motion, soft skin sliding against pointed canine, and she isn’t too terribly surprised to find herself pulled closer as he purrs a second time.

“You like that?” she asks, angling her head away just enough to see most of his expression. It’s a rhetorical question—she knows he does, same as she knows she can’t hide the way she likes it too.

His eyes are so very bright, glowing like Balmera crystals, and for just a tick she fancies she can see marks upon his cheeks. Maybe it’s just a reflection of her own marks; they are growing rather hot, almost to the point of distraction. His gaze travels over her face as he takes a breath both visible and audible, no doubt trying to regain some lost composure, and she briefly fears he will be dishonest with her, will retreat back to the aloof persona he lives behind.

But he surprises her yet again.

“Quite,” he admits, lips curling in such a way that it affords her the perfect view to watch as he drags the tip of his tongue across one of those sharp, sharp fangs of his. It’s a deliberate movement on his part and she knows it, but that doesn’t stop her breath from catching.

Well. Two can play at this game.

“Good,” she replies with a grin, showing off the fangs she’s formed to match his. The strangeness of having such pointed teeth is so very worth it to watch the way his eyes widen, then narrow once more before he leans in again for another kiss. It stings, especially when he nips her, but she can’t complain when she’s able to coax him into purring again, because she thinks maybe...

Maybe, just maybe, she could grow to love this.


End file.
